


More Than Just a Blogger

by OhNoMyBreadsticks



Series: Bready Fills Prompts [14]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - The Witcher Fusion, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, M/M, Pre-Slash, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoMyBreadsticks/pseuds/OhNoMyBreadsticks
Summary: Keeping the company of a Witcher is a good way to attract unwanted and unpleasant attention. But Geralt may find himself surprised with how his loyal blogger reacts to such attacks.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Bready Fills Prompts [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1411321
Comments: 6
Kudos: 212





	More Than Just a Blogger

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request for Anon on tumblr, who asked for "maybe Witcher prompt where Geralt finds out some folks have been giving jaskier a hard time for traveling and being with a Witcher - especially if they're found out as a couple. He comes back from a hunt to find Jaskier fighting them off and realizes this isn't the first time it's happened bc some people just aren't too pleased with a bard that spins positive tales about a Witcher - Maybe twist that it's a Modern AU?"
> 
> This was a fantastic plot idea, and I really loved writing this verse! I find the idea of modern AU but Geralt is still a witcher really fun, so I hope you enjoy this as well :D

Geralt grunted as he nudged the body of the last siren over with his toe, checking for a bullet hole through the chest. The group had been slightly larger than expected, and he was out of breath because of it, hair in a disarray and leather jacket slick with black blood. Finally spotting the sizzling hole left by his silver bullet, and satisfied that the kills were complete, Geralt holstered his pistols and flexed his hands experimentally, checking for breaks or strains. He had needed to fall back on hand-to-hand combat when two had jumped him, but it seemed his knuckles were just scraped open, with no permanent damage done. 

Geralt wiped his bloody knuckles off on his shirt, not caring if it stained. It was a lost cause at this point anyways, which was why he bought all of his clothes cheap and nondescript. Everything except his jacket, of course, which was a necessary protection from claws and teeth. Wearing actual armor was frowned upon in polite society (not that he regularly frequented any ‘polite’ society), so the leather jacket was next best. He’d clean it when they got back to the hotel, wiping it down and polishing it with oil to refresh the leather.

_ They _ . What a strange concept. It had been a few months now of travelling with Jaskier, but it never stopped feeling strange to know he had a companion. Or maybe it did stop feeling strange, and that was what scared Geralt. More than monsters or contracts, the thought of having someone trailing along with him permanently was more terrifying. He was definitely not going to let himself linger on why, because that was a useless train of thought. More useful was collecting the appropriate trophies from the sirens and swinging back up onto his motorcycle, Roach springing to life with a familiar hum. 

The drive back to the cafe where he had left Jaskier wasn’t overly long, the contract worth more because the person posting it had been directly in the danger zone. That was what happened when your cafe happened to be built right near a siren-infested waterway, but that was neither here nor there. Geralt didn’t care, he was just here to collect his money and move on. The glares he had gotten from the owner and the patrons had told him all he needed to know about this town’s opinion on Witchers. 

Pulling up into a parking space and dismounting in one smooth motion, Geralt snatched the bloody bag from the back of the bike and headed inside. He expected to be greeted by stunned silence thanks to his bloodied appearance, but instead what hit him when he entered the cafe was a murmur of discontent and angry voices. His fine-tuned hearing easily picked up individual voices from the mob -  _ fucking whore, prancing around half dressed _ and  _ shacking up with a monster, who does he think he is _ and even more concerning  _ should just smash that laptop, who knows what kind of filth he’s been typing about that freak! _ And suddenly, rising out of the muck of curses and slander, 

“Look I’m so happy to have brought you all together like this, but I really am going to have to put my foot down on the whole ‘monster’ business! Geralt is very much the opposite of a monster!” 

There, at the center of the angry crowd, stood Jaskier. His hands were clutching at his laptop and camera, and it was only because Geralt knew him that he could see the slight shake to his grip. He was scared, but he was still standing up for a Witcher, of all people. Stupid. A good way to get beat up, even better than going around wearing those wide open shirts that showed off the lacy underthings against his skin. It seemed that Jaskier really didn’t have any self-preservation instincts, which for some reason was making Geralt’s own urge to protect him flare up like a monster clawing its way up his throat.

“Lay off!” Geralt snarled, slamming his hand against the wall and leaving a bloody smear, “He’s just a blogger!” 

That was enough to catch the attention of the crowd, who spun to look at him with wide eyes and mouths gaping. He stalked forward and dropped the bloodied bag onto the counter, the rattle of bone muted by some unsettling squishy sound. “I fixed your problem. Pay me before I cause a bigger one.” Geralt growled, narrowing his yellow eyes and sweeping them across the impromptu mob until he caught the gaze of the man who had posted the contract. He visibly wilted under the glare and shuffled forward to begrudgingly hand over the cash, muttering darkly under his breath the whole time.   
  
“Jaskier. Let’s move.” Geralt ordered with a jerk of his head towards the door, very aware that this tentative spell he had over these people would break very soon. And there would be no bluffing his way out a second time. Luckily, for once in his life Jaskier obeyed, grabbing his bag and hastily stuffing his few belongings into it before scurrying to the exit. When they left, Geralt slammed the door behind them and swung onto Roach, patting the seat behind him without a second thought. Jaskier gasped softly but settled in, clearly not stopping to question the sudden change in Geralt’s very clear ‘no touching Roach’ policy.

Geralt didn’t stop to question it either, or the warmth he felt bloom in his chest as Jaskier’s arms wrapped around him from behind to hold on as he peeled out onto the road. That’s not important, because Witchers don’t have feelings. But then again, Witchers also don’t have bloggers who follow them around, insist they’re friends, and stand up for them when it’s actually quite dangerous to do so. 

“Geralt is very much the opposite of a monster!” Jaskier had said, like he actually believed it.

If Geralt wasn’t careful, he was going to start believing it himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> As always, any and all comments or kudos left at any time are loved and cherished <3 If you'd like to see more of my drabbles or stop by for a chat you can find me over on [tumblr](https://ohnomybreadsticks.tumblr.com/)! :)


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